


you are a constellation

by ohCaptain (AngryPirateHusbands)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-02 06:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10939302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPirateHusbands/pseuds/ohCaptain
Summary: rated E just in case





	you are a constellation

**Author's Note:**

> rated E just in case

A soft sigh left James’ lips as he gradually stirred from his slumber. He shifted against the mattress, the resulting sting in his muscles enough to make him hiss. Though he and Thomas had indulged in their own affair for several weeks now, his body was still adjusting to this type of intimacy. While he had slept with women on previous occasions, sexual congress with another man was distinctly different in every way. Lying back, being consumed and accepting what was given to him instead of taking his own pleasure... it was intoxicating. The feel of Thomas inside him was enough to make him drunk with pleasure. The thickness of his cock, the stretch of it as he slowly pressed inside, filling him so completely... But it was not merely the physical aspects that had struck him. Emotionally, giving himself to another was strangely liberating. A part of him wondered if he would ever grow accustomed to it. Yet this was not a concern in the slightest. The ache in his limbs, the sting in his jaw, even the way Thomas’ release tickled down his thigh as it slipped free of him... He reveled in it all. That night Thomas' lips had captured his own, bathed in candlelight and held beneath Miranda's bittersweet gaze, had left its mark. It had seared his skin, igniting a flame deep within --small and flickering though it was. Still, it was one that managed to illuminate a piece of himself he had never known was missing.

James didn't need to so much as offer a glance to know that Thomas was already awake. If this morning rung similar to any of the others, he had woken long before the sun only to relax back with the comfort of an opened book. Even so, he allowed his gaze to wander nonetheless. Sure enough there Thomas sat, the bulk of his pillows bundled behind him and a red leather-bound text spread across his lap.

Thomas felt the weight of his gaze immediately. It seemed that he always did, and just as those times before it was greeted with a smile. "Good morning," he offered just as softly. Those crystalline blue eyes fell back to the book as he turned the page.

James felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. " _Marcus Aurelias_ again?" he couldn't help but ask. As he spoke he shuffled to the edge of the bed, the muscles of his back protesting as he bent down to collect his clothing that had been so carelessly discarded the night before. He pulled the white cotton shirt down over his shoulders, the fabric scraping lightly over the marks Thomas had left below his collarbone.

"Of course." James could practically hear the smirk that colored his tone. However, it was quickly buried beneath the invisible weight of that touch as Thomas' knuckles ghosted down his arm. "Must you cover yourself so soon?" Thomas asked, the disapproving air of it clearly meant to be teasing. "You don't need to leave for several more hours, it would be a pity to hide those freckles until then."

This gave James pause. After a moment he swallowed down the lump in his throat before casting Thomas another glance. Apparently he had done little to hide the frown that hardened his features, for Thomas' own expression quickly melded to mirror his own.

"Did I misspeak?" Thomas asked uncertainly. An eyebrow arched in confusion as those eyes moved over him, searching.

James' tongue reached out to wet his lips as he gave a shake his head. "No," he assured him. "Not at all, it's just..." After another pause he huffed out a short laugh, his head shaking once more. "When I was a child, I was teased quite often about them," he explained. As he did so he adjusted the lay of the tunic if only to give his hands something to do. "The freckles, I mean."

At this Thomas closed the book. The soft thump of it returning to its place on the nightstand was enough to draw James' gaze. The way Thomas regarded him now was... disarming, to say the least. Those eyes moved over him in a way that peeled back the layers of that mask he had spent years perfecting, and still it appeared as though he were searching for something.

"You know how children can be..." James offered with a shrug. Silences had never made him uncomfortable in the past, in fact he rather enjoyed them, but with Thomas and Miranda it was different. Such a pauses always seemed much more weighted with them than with others; like the calm before the storm.

"Cruel," Thomas finished for him after a moment.

Another chuckle. "I was going to say 'little shits', actually," James smirked, "But yes."

When Thomas hummed the sound resonated deep within his chest. "I'll have you know I adore your freckles," he drawled out. The playful smirk that now rose on his lips likened him more to a mischievous cherub than a nobleman. It was enough to send heat rushing to his cheeks, and swiftly James dipped his chin in an effort to conceal it. Still, there was little he could do for the scarlet that surely darkened the tips of his ears.

"I think they're beautiful," Thomas continued, the words whispered into his ear. His breath was warm as it tickled against his skin, teasing a promise of the gentle touch that would soon follow. When the press of those lips finally came, light and amiable against the curve of his neck, it was enough to steal James' breath away. "Absolutely beautiful..." Thomas repeated. His earlobe was drawn into his mouth with the tip of his tongue, the man sucking it gently as a hand trailed down his arm with purposefully slow movements. When he reached his wrist he paused only to begin stroking lazily over the splattering of freckles there.

Despite the deceptive innocence of it all, James knew far better than that by now. Thomas was never quite as innocent as he appeared, and so the light drag of his fingertips was enough to send blood pooling straight to his cock. When Thomas' hand ghosted back up his arm he had hooked the edge of his sleeve on his pinky, dragging the fabric upwards to expose his forearm and bicep. The farther up he went the denser the mass of freckles became. Thomas touched over them now, tracing patterns with the pad of his finger as that wet mouth latched onto his neck. James' breath hitched in his throat, his chest raising and falling as Thomas helped coax his tunic back up over his shoulders. Jame let it slip back to the floor, unable to care in this moment about the wrinkles it would surely cause.

Thomas mouthed over his shoulderblade, alternating soft kisses with nipping teeth as he guided James backward. The plane of his chest was hard against his back as he relaxed against him, his hand reaching backward to seek purchase in those short locks of honeyed wheat. Thomas hummed against his skin before capturing his lips in a slow, silken kiss. One that left them both quite breathless when he withdrew.

"Look at yourself, James," Thomas urged him. His felt his chin as it hooked over his shoulder so that he too could peer downward. Again that touch was slow, sensual as it followed the patterns of freckles across his chest. "Look at how beautiful you are."

At his urging James couldn't help but glance downward. He was already half hard, Thomas' wandering hands completely ignoring his cock as they instead moved over his abdomen. He was drew out nonsensical shapes against his skin, moving up along the expanse of his chest. The catch of a fingernail on his nipple caused his skin to break out in gooseflesh.

"Everything about you is so breathtaking, James," Thomas continued. His breath was damp against the shell of his ear as he spoke. "Like the night sky, your skin holds countless galaxies. Clusters of stars that form constellations, each one more lovely than the last."

James didn't answer. He couldn't speak, let alone find the words. And even if he could, he doubted he would be able to regain control over his useless tongue. Instead he turned his head to take Thomas' mouth in a kiss. Long and fervant, and oh so telling. Thomas' touch left tendrils of fire in its wake as those hands moved over him. They burned his skin with each press of his palms and stroke of his fingers. Eventually, somehow, Thomas had maneuvered him back against the bedsheets. He was folded over him now, soft hands continuing to explore the freckles that splattered his skin as he took a nipple between his teeth. James' breath hitched, his back arching up into it, chasing that wet heat. Thomas teased the nub with the drag of his tongue, the sensitive flesh hardening beneath the sting of his teeth. Only once it had fully pebbled did he withdraw.

"I wonder just how many constellations I map out in these freckles," Thomas murmured. The words were but a breath against his flushed skin, a thinly veiled promise to discover the answer. "How many patterns I can trace against your skin."

James couldn't recall what number Thomas had finally settled on. By the time their skin was slick and damp with sweat, he doubted Thomas could, either. All he rememebered was that not unlike the stars that blanketed the night sky, the touch of Thomas' lips was seemingly infinate --as was the way they made him feel.


End file.
